


29. Consequences and Promises

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [29]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: references to sexual assault and possible triggers</p>
    </blockquote>





	29. Consequences and Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: references to sexual assault and possible triggers

It's late when Antony gets back from the hospital. Really late. Or really early. It all depends on how you want to look at it. But it's still dark outside and everything's that weird middle-of-the-night quiet as he pulls into his spot under the building and rides the lift up to his penthouse, head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed as he covers a yawn with the back of his hand. He hadn't called Stephen again after that first call. Hadn't wanted to wake him. Hopes someone managed to get some sleep tonight.

At some point Stephen had dragged a blanket out of the bedroom, and wearing his sweats he curled up under it a book in hand to wait for his lover to come home. He's been on edge, how can he not be? Clearly Antony was deeply concerned about his friend and the last call from the hospital had hardly been reassuring. Despite this, Stephen had fallen asleep, dozing on the large couch.

It's the noise of a key in the door that stirs him, and he pushes up, bleary eyed. "Tony?"

"Yeah." Antony drops his keys on the kitchen island and heads for the couch, kneeling down beside it, arms wrapped around his lover, pressing close and hugging him so fucking tight for a moment. "Did I wake you?"

"Hmm, yeah, I tried to stay awake," Stephen mumbles into Antony's neck as he's squeezed tight. Bringing one hand up he cups the back of Antony's head in his palm and rubs his scalp. "Hey...hey," he murmurs. "You okay?" His voice full of concern now. "He...he's okay right?"

Antony nods. "He will be. The guy did a real number on him. They're keeping him in overnight for observation, fluids, there's a couple tests they can't do til the morning..." Fuck. It suddenly hits Antony that _none_ of this would have happened if he'd left his fucking phone on.

It sounds like good news, all things considered, but his lover is still incredibly tense. "And Joe, he's okay?" He assumes so, because he knows his lover is a man who takes care of those he considers worth it, and he wouldn't have left them until he'd done all he could. He presses a comforting kiss to Antony's cheek. "What about you?"

"Joe's good. He's staying with Ian. I told him he could call me back if he needed," Antony says, ignoring the question about his own well-being. "Turns out I recognized Joe and they both belong to Citadel after all." He shakes his head, exhausted but amused.

"Yeah?" Stephen frowns a little then tries a return smile of his own. "Small world huh?" He continues to search his lover's expression, because there's something closed off there, something he's not seen before.

"Yeah." Antony sits back a little. "I need a drink. You want one?"

"Sit down, let me get it," Stephen pushes up and points at the couch. "Sit," he says again, eyeing his lover. "Scotch?"

"A double, please," Antony nods, pushing up to sit on the couch, the blanket Stephen had wrapped around him still warm from his body heat.

Stephen fusses about, pouring two drinks, a double for his Sir which he offers up. "Do you need to eat? I can make you a sandwich, some eggs?"

Antony shakes his head. "No, just come sit with me," he says, holding out his hand.

Taking his lover's hand Stephen sets himself down, right next to Antony, he presses close. "Do you need to talk?" he offers softly. "Because you know you can, to me, I keep your secrets."

"I know," Antony says on a rough exhale. "I just. Fuck." He shakes his head again. "If I'd left my phone on, this wouldn't have happened." It's not everything. It's not the way he's almost crawling out of his skin to do something, to hunt the fucker down who hurt Ian and just. Yeah. That part of him he's not ever going to share with Stephen.

Stephen cocks a brow at that pronouncement, because it is not like his lover to take things on himself like that, not when he clearly _isn't_ at fault. "It's not your fault if he made bad choices Tony, that's on him," he says quietly. "He can't expect you to be at his beck and call when it suits him, you've not heard from him in weeks...so why should you be poised ready to react when he snaps his fingers for some play? You were there when he really needed you, when it was important, you went and picked up the pieces, he's safe now. That's on you, not what happened."

Antony nods. He knows Stephen's right. He does. It's just deep down, especially after Marcus gave him shit about turning his phone off... It's like the whole fucking universe went _told you so_. "I don't like not being in control," he confesses softly instead. "I'm used to being in charge, making everything work, run smoothly, making sure my men get out safe. This fucker..."

"This was not your mess," Stephen reiterates. "Ian is not your boy, you do not have that agreement with him, if you did, then yes, you could take some responsibility, but he's not, he's a free agent, able to make smart and stupid choices without recourse to you." Stephen blows out a breath, pissed at Ian for making his lover feel like this.

"I know," Antony says, turning to face Stephen a little more. "But he's a friend, a good friend, and I take care of my friends."

"And you did, you took care of him when he needed you most," Stephen raises his hand to cup the side of Antony's face. "And I'm so proud of the fact that my guy is the kind of man that other people feel that they can turn to when they need help, it says a huge amount about the kind of person you are."

And the fact that he's going to hunt Ian's attacker down? What does that say about him? Antony knows damn well. Has known for a long time. But here, right in front of him, is proof that not everything they say is true. He can care. He does love. Maybe only a few people. Maybe only those he claims as his in one way or another, but still. He nods. "It meant a lot knowing you were here, waiting for me," he says softly.

"I'll always be here for you Tony," Stephen replies equally quietly. "You know that right? Whenever you need me, I'm your partner, not _just_ boy."

"I know, but this was the first time I got to see that in action," Antony says with a small smile. "Not that I want too many nights like this. Christ." He reaches for his scotch and downs half of it in one swallow before wrapping his arms around Stephen and pulling him close. "I love you," he whispers.

Snuggling up tight Stephen inhales his lover's scent, eyes closed. "I was thinking," he murmurs, "...while you were gone, perhaps, when I get my collar, if you want, I'd like to move in, here, with you," he offers softly.

Antony's eyes widen and he pulls back a little, staring at Stephen, a smile slowly curving his lips. "That would be fucking brilliant," he says, kissing him hard on the mouth.

Stephen's laughing into the kiss, because it's not often he can surprise his lover like that. When he pulls back, he's a little breathless. "You don't want time to think about it?" he teases.

"Are you kidding?" Antony asks, cupping Stephen's cheek and staring into his eyes. "I don't even want to wait three weeks."

"Well that's tough, because I'm going to make you wait," Stephen grins. "I get my collar, my permanent contract, you get to keep me. Anyway, three weeks gives you time to remove all your secret squirrel work stuff and make room for my shit." He feels fit to burst with how happy he is at the way Antony's responded, at how ecstatic he looks.

 _You get to keep me._ They're the sweetest words Antony's heard in a long time and although he's aware he's grinning like a fucking loon, he can't seem to stop. "Okay," he says finally, nodding. "Three weeks. Day of, though."

Stephen arches a brow at that. "Oh is that so?" he teases. "So, how we going to play that out hmm? Dinner? Contract signing, then my collar? Aren't we _supposed_ to make a big deal out of it? Have a witness or something?"

"We will," Antony promises, already making plans. "Let me take care of it." He smiles at Stephen. "Although... if we were to make a big deal of it, do have anyone you'd trust to invite? Or anyone you know at the club?"

Stephen shakes his head, there's no one he can share that part of his life with. "No, no there's no one," he shrugs. "Comes of being a closeted gay pervert I guess," he tries to joke it off, but yeah it stings a little that he can't share a really important thing with...someone. "I don't need a big thing Tony, just a special thing, and that can be small and intimate."

Antony nods, his chest aching at the undertone there. "I'll make sure it's special," he says with a smile, leaning in to brush their lips together.

"And you're still sure it's what you want?" It's the first time in weeks that Stephen's brought the subject up, not since Antony told him to assume 'when' and not 'if'. And as much as he's worked at shutting up that self doubting voice, it still surfaces now and then.

Antony looks at Stephen, shocked that his lover, his boy, has to ask. That he has any doubts at all. He's _thisclose_ to making some sort of joke, some kind of tease, or outright asking Stephen what in the hell he's thinking when he changes his mind and says instead, "I've never been more sure of anything."

Of course he sees it, he's learning to read Antony, and of course it makes him feel like a total shit for asking, for doubting, and Stephen pulls back a little, just a hint, then his Sir's voice soothes him with the words he needed to hear.

"I'm going to grab a quick shower before we turn in," Antony murmurs, glancing at his watch, so fucking thankful they're both on holiday it's not even funny. "Want to join me or meet me in bed?"

"I'll get the bed warm," Stephen smiles. "Give you a few minutes peace." He leans in and plants a kiss on Antony's mouth before pulling back. "Go on, you look exhausted."

Antony gives Stephen another smile and then heads for the bathroom, his clothes shed as he goes and dumped in the hamper in the walk-in closet. He turns the shower on full-strength, as hot as he can stand it, then stands under the water until his shoulders and back are bright red before he finally soaps up and rinses off. Stephen was right. He's exhausted. Doesn't remember being this tired in a long time. All-nighters are a regular part of his work but this is different. The stress, the fear, the worry. It's shit he doesn't deal with when he's working, always more than confident he can pull things off.

But thank god Ian's okay. Or will be, once everything checks out tomorrow. This morning. Fuck. And then there's Stephen, saying he'll move in. Antony meant what he said. It's fucking brilliant, something he's wanted from the moment they returned from Fiji and he got used to sleeping with Stephen, having him here.

Stephen tidies up their glasses, folds the blanket and turns out the lights, making his way to the main bedroom. He puts on the bedside lighting and sheds his clothes, setting it all off to one side in a neat bundle, then he climbs into bed, waiting, listening to the water and his lover's movements. He's tired, but he feels good, glad that Ian's okay, glad that his lover's home, and even more pleased at Antony's response to his offer of moving in. At 32, Stephen hasn't lived with a significant other, ever. But he's not about to admit to that. No, he's going to wing it, and pray he can get it right.

Drying himself off with a huge bath towel, Antony wraps it around his hips while he brushes his teeth. He's slower than usual, winding down, but he finishes up, hangs his towel on the heated rack and makes his way into the bedroom, where Stephen's waiting for him. "Hey, gorgeous," he murmurs, prowling up the length of the bed to plant a kiss on Stephen's lips before he slides under the covers on his own side. "I am so glad you're here." He's pretty sure he said the same or something along those lines earlier but he could care less. He's just so fucking tired.

"Yeah?" Stephen smiles and before Antony can make his move, he's reaching out to pull his lover into his arms, to hold him for a change. "I'm glad I'm here too, glad I can hold you, and kiss you and let you know you can lean on me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Antony's forehead.

It still feels weird sometimes, letting Stephen hold him like this, but Antony's getting more and more used to it. "It meant a lot to me," he says softly, running his fingers over Stephen's chest. "The way you handled things tonight. From the phone call right through... you knew exactly what I needed."

"I'm not sure how else I was supposed to handle things," Stephen's eyes are closed, but he's smiling at the play of fingers over his skin. "But knowing what you need? That's my job, from both a boy and a partner angle," he points out. "You're mine to look out for, mine to care for."

"Some people might have been jealous or just pissed," Antony says. "Having their partner run off to take care of someone else."

"He's not just anyone though is he? He's someone you've already expressed an interest in looking out for," Stephen gives Antony a light squeeze. "What kind of a person would it make me if I stopped you going to help out a friend when they really fucking need you? As to jealous? You came home to me, what do I have to be jealous about?"

"Absolutely nothing, but not everyone's that reasonable," Antony says, smiling up at Stephen. "And sometimes you don't really know until you're put in a situation and tonight just showed me you really /are/ as amazing as I think you are."

Stephen does one of those weird little frowny smiles. "I'm not amazing for being a decent person," he protests. "You're a man who looks after his own, and I love that about you." He plants a kiss on the tip of Antony's nose. "You chose me, that's all I need to know."

Antony smiles. In his experience there are far more people out there who think they're decent than actually are and it's one of the reasons he can count those he truly trusts on one hand with fingers left over. "Okay," he murmurs. "You want to turn off the light?"

Without a reply, Stephen turns and switches off the light, plunging the room into darkness. He tucks Antony a little closer, and draws the covers up around them a little more. "Three more weeks, Tony, then I'm yours, for good," he whispers.


End file.
